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She held his gaze without flinching. “I trust you not to. I wish to be forgiven.”
Edmund’s pulse quickened. To see his wife demure and apologetic filled him with both relief and a strange lust for her. With the crop remaining held out before him, he scanned about. They were quite alone and the folly door would be unlocked. The need to spank her felt both necessary and unwarranted at the same time. Her contriteness had enabled him to dismiss his anger towards her, yet he required a suitable purging of her ugly display of defiance. She invited him with her sacrificial pose, not that it mattered, if she had continued to be bullish with him, he felt sure he would have dragged her into the folly to have strong words with her while she lay across his knees. She hadn’t though and Edmund convinced himself he need never be so forceful with her again. Those days, he believed, were behind them.
“We will enter the folly together and deal with this matter appropriately.” He took the crop from her.
Alice didn’t smile or show any joy in his decision. Her breath altered. A snatch of fresh air taken speedily and then she nodded at him. “Yes, husband.”
* * *
Entering the gloomy folly, the only light cast came through the door behind Alice and she was convinced numerous eyes stared at her from out of the darkness. The damp air smelt of cold stone and emptiness. The austerity of the small building wasn’t the kind of reception Alice hoped for when he told her to enter. Opposite the doorway were tall wooden shutters. Edmund strode across the floor, having closed the door behind him, slid back the bolt and pulled the shutters back. Before him was a window, reaching from floor to ceiling, and made up of numerous small panes.
The room lit up about Alice. The walls were made up of alcoves each with their own painted fresco and above her head, the domed ceiling also contained a brightly coloured painting. She gaped at the half-naked demi-gods and nymphs, draped in loose clothing.
Returning to the window, she took in the view. The folly, built on the ridge of a hill, commanded an impressive vista. Before her, the Derbyshire Peaks with their rolling hills and rocky ridges. Bright sunlight shone through into the folly and with it came warmth, dismissing the dankness.
“It’s beautiful,” she declared.
“I’m glad you like it. I often rode up here in my youth.”
Alice recollected the matter in hand—her chastisement. “I nearly destroyed that joyful ride for you, didn’t I?” He wanted to bring her to somewhere special and all she had done was bring him strife.
“It made my heart falter, yes.”
She stepped towards him, unafraid and quite affected by his confession. “What shall I do to rectify that?”
“Do you wear those pantalettes?” he asked with a faint smile.
“I do.” She enjoyed wearing them and always hoped he would too.
“Then, they are all I wish to see on you.”
His carefully worded request ignited her passions and quashed any inhibitions she held about their setting. Alice took her time to undress. Edmund leaned his back on the wall, a gloved finger running repeatedly over his lower lip as she mesmerised him with a slow seductive unlacing of her corset. His eyes tracked the leisurely rolling down of her stockings and when she picked at the hem of her chemise, which once she feared to remove, she peeled it away from her pale flesh as gracefully as possible, reaching her arms up straight and letting her breasts appear gradually. She lay each item of clothing on the stone bench, which sat before the window.
The cool air swept about her body, setting off ripples of shivers down her spine. With her near nudity on display, it also felt like the whole world was watching them through the vast window. There was nobody to see. The folly stood high above the valley below and nothing overlooked their position.
Each of her heartbeats thumped against her breastbone. Her nipples stiffened into little pebbles, her sex ached for attention and her mouth went dry with anticipation.
“Place both your hands flat on this bench,” said Edmund softly, still wielding her crop in one hand. He slowly tapped it against his riding boot.
Alice leant forward, bending down and touched the cold granite. Her breasts hung low, bouncing as she took up position. As she bent, her drawers parted about her bottom, exposing her cheeks and cleft. Edmund would be able to see her private place, her excited sex and secretions. She blushed with shame at her arousal.
She watched as he tugged his gloves off, tossing them to one side. Then, he walked around her, to stand behind her raised bottom. A hand ran down each cheek and it made her calves quiver and her toes curl up.
Humiliating her further, his finger checked her status. The digit slithered between her folds, parting them and finding her wanting. Edmund said nothing to her relief. However, his discovery didn’t save her from his proposed spanking. She heard him swish the crop through the air, making practice swings and tapping her buttocks, each one in turn.
Her protective bonnet dispensed with, her hair had begun to unravel. Turning her head to look over her shoulder, loose locks of curls dropped down over her eyes. Edmund noticed her unruly hair and leant over and tucked them back behind her pins.
“I want to see your face,” he murmured.
Alice wondered if she would cry. Not since the early spankings, especially the one after their wedding when he had taken her over his lap, had she cried bitterly during a spanking. Perhaps, she wanted to let go and weep, to let go of her frustration at failing Edmund.
The crop lingered, pressed against a cheek and then with a flick of his wrist, Edmund landed a stroke. She yelped, jumping at the unexpected harshness of the blow. Immediately, it stung sharply. Another followed, with the tongue—the keeper—whipping her other cheek. She kicked a foot back, her sole brushing against the stone floor.
“Keep still, Alice,” he warned. “Breathe.”
r /> Alice sucked in a lungful of air, blocked out the scenery, shut her eyes tightly, screwed her face up and waited for the next thwack of the crop. It landed below the first. It left a hot impression, a blazing line of fire and then before she could assimilate it, another arrived above accompanied by a swoosh.
Gasping, she bowed her head, fighting back the tears. The force of the blows astounded her. How many would he give her to make amends for her disobedience? A hand ran over her bottom and its coolness was a sharp contrast to the fire he had lit with the crop. Again, he dipped a finger between her labia and explored her slit. She moaned appreciatively. Her pussy had betrayed her terribly.
